


Howl

by Eugewo (faeliya)



Series: Wolf Verse [1]
Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, wolf verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 10:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2065245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeliya/pseuds/Eugewo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a run in with an old friend that turns uneventful, Kieren Walker leaves his hometown in hopes of starting anew. He sought to live out the rest of his life secluded in a forest with just his sketchpads, but instead finds himself in the company of two wolves: one with an insatiable appetite and the other too witty for a creature of the woods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Howl

**Author's Note:**

> Un'beta-ed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> Luxury is the wolf at the door and its fangs are the vanities and conceits germinated by success. When an artist learns this, he knows where the danger is.
> 
> —Tennessee Williams

 

There isn't much to _do_ in a forested area, except maybe hike or take long walks, both of which Kieren Walker does not enjoy though. His tall stature and gangly limbs already make it difficult for him to move around properly, yet alone move around in his own house, so he would much like to keep movements at a minimum. In fact, he'd rather sit on his bed and draw the days and nights away like he's done for the past few weeks actually.

Though when he starts feeling confined, he'll sometimes chance a walk—never too far in case he loses his way—to clear his head or find inspiration. On such days too, when he's up for it, Kieren would bring his sketchbook with him to draw the scenery or map out the area. Rarely does he ever feel up to it though, at least ever since he came back home with his cooler raided. Now he just hauls himself inside the cabin, paranoid.

The redhead is about 99.9% sure something's out there. It's not the first time strange things had been happening around the cabin.

At times when the he has gone out to stock up, leaving the cabin empty, Kieren comes back to find leaves strewn about like someone had been sniffing around. First he thought it the wind and rodents that live underneath the cabin. However, dark empty nights left his thoughts reeling otherwise. The path cleared was much bigger than a mere squirrel or rat—in fact, it looked as if someone had _dragged_ through and around the cabin. Suddenly, Kieren could not sleep that night and many nights to come.

However, come one August night, Kieren never wished more than anything to return to sleeping like he used to for he swore he heard scratching noises coming from outside the cabin—not underneath like usual. They were light, never harsh, but the sound still scares the wits out of him. He never left the cabin for days afterward, in fear of whatever was out there, **was still out there**. Only when he needed to head to town, did Kieren deem it relatively safe since the creature seemed to prefer night visits than day visits.

With that notion in mind, Kieren somehow slept better at night afterwards. However, it wasn't long before he was frightened again. When tasked to finally clean out the masonry—so he could use it alas—Kieren found deep claw marks on the rock stones. Looking around, he noticed several behind the cabin too, all near the windows. Once again, the redhead was back to sleepless nights.

Those sleepless nights seldom led to furious sketching of the creature outside though, which left Kieren hysteric by September.

Not willing to be led by such emotions and mind exhausted from restlessness, the redhead forced himself to tread outside into the woods for some peace or perhaps bring about some normalcy back into his life. He even brought his sketchpad in light of sitting down and drawing. Once the notebook was open and Kieren was immersed, he nearly forgot about everything. He was in such a better mood than he was for days.

That didn't last long though, like always.

When Kieren reached the cabin, the cooler was tops down and _raided_. The meat he left out to defrost for dinner _gone_ — _eaten_.

So now here he is, yet again, hauled in the cabin and pacing the main floor as he frets over what to do now—fight it out or be the next chow for the forest beast outside. He's already waited this long, the beast has already waited this long, it wouldn't be long now before his end—whatnot with the recent taste of _raw meat_ it's tasted.

Kieren sighs heavily, finding everything about this situation ridiculous and stupid. Ridiculous because it was like a scene out of a horror movie, except he was the one starring in it—and stupid because who was dumb enough to shack up in a cabin in the middle of a forest? Hilarious, only Kieren Walker would.

He's going to die out here in the wild, maimed by a beast, and his parents would think no less of it. His dad would say he deserved it. His mum in silent agreement, and Jem would probably not even come to his burial. The whole town of Roarton would not come, would not care. They'd think it righteous if he was put down by a monster, like the monster he was.

He would die lonely, unloved, and deserving—

Kieren stops himself before he spirals even deeper. He's not in Roarton anymore. He's here, in this cabin, a place to call _home_ now. He swore to start anew and lead a better life after everything. He didn't drive 300 miles away just to have his past chase him down. He would die the _real_ Kieren Walker or die trying. He was done being a coward, that was his life back in Roarton.

Mind made up, Kieren grabs the hunting knife stashed in the chest nearby before heading towards the door. He doesn't even pause for a second before wrenching the door open and unsheathing the knife, poised ready to strike.

Kieren freezes.

A brunette is standing behind the door, naked as born, with a bewildered expression before morphing into fear.

The redhead's world turns black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Kieren awakes, his head is throbbing and mind reeling. It's as if he fell and smacked his head against something. It's painful trying to think and recollect with the sound of a loud pulse flooding his ears. When the noise seems to quiet done, the redhead recollects his thoughts. He goes through every detail before his blackout, but doesn't recall his encounter with a strange woman before he actually _does_ when he sees her standing by the fridge, back turned to him.

In a state of panic and dread, Kieren grabs the nearest object to use in his defense: an ash tray.

The woman hears him before she sees him as she dodges out of the way when Kieren trips.

"Wow, you're clumsy," The brunette chidders, an amused expression on her face.

Kieren doesn't reply, heart racing and thoughts crashing into one another. He's never had to injure someone before, let alone had the intent to do so. He can't do it. He's scared for his life and of this stranger that could possibly murder him without any thoughts to it, but he can't bring himself to harm like many have done to him. God, Bill Macy was _right_ , he couldn't even hurt a fly.

"I—" Kieren pauses, overwhelm. His voice is tremoring so bad he can't even talk properly, it doesn't help that his body is locked up tight too.

The stranger's expression falls when she takes a whiff, something that does not go unnoticed by the redhead.

"Oh. That... That's not gonna do." The brunette says, nose wrinkling slightly in distaste.

Kieren squints at her comment, "Huh?"

"How about you serve us dinner and we talk afterwards, hmm?" The woman suggests, rocking on to the sole of her feet and back in what looks to be anticipation.

The ash tray in the redhead's hand clatters as it slips from his grasp. "W-what?"

"If possible," the brunette licks her lips, "some of that meat from earlier?"

Kieren just continues to stare at the woman as she saunters away, confused and wary at the same time. He doesn't have time to think things over though when he realize he's been staring at her naked this whole time and flushes, unconsciously retorting, "Put something _on_!"

The woman cackles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

His... Visitor—Kieren's still getting use to the word—as she calls herself, said she meant no harm and was just greeting him as a nearby... Neighbor—something he's trying to grasp along with the whole visitation thing.

"I forgot my," the female pauses as if testing out the word in her head, "clothes on my way here."

Kieren simply stares at her reply to his question about her nude. How could you _forget_ clothing yourself? Wasn't it the universal knowledge everybody possessed? There was something a bit off about this lady, suspicious almost. She had refused to give her name when Kieren when asked. It was as if she was unsure about the question when he had asked it, but the redhead didn't want to be too rude. His socializing  _is_ a bit rusty afterall. Aside from the store clerks, Kieren hasn't had a decent conversation since his road trip which is probably three months if he thinks about it.

Anyhow, aside from the whole name thing, the strangest thing was that his visitor requested the meat _raw_. Wasn't that detrimental to the health of humans? Last Kieren checked, people died and went crazy eating meat raw. It was horrid, and he meant to inform her so, but then, when he had seen the expression on her face—devastated as the beef cooked—he had no choice but to comply and go along.

Maybe science had progressed during his absence and people _could_ eat raw meat now. It wasn't a far outreach; science _does_ do the impossible afterall.

"Ah... I see..." Kieren replied, the disbelief clear as a bell in his intonation. The female doesn't pick up on it though.

"Yeah. I don't visit often."

Kieren nods along, "Yeah. Not everyday you find someone living up in the woods. I didn't even think someone might be living here too."

The brunette just nods her head on every word, hearing but possibly not understanding—Kieren can't tell.

"Yes. Yes. I didn't mean to scare." The female says again for the ninth time.

"It's ok, it's fine. I tend to scare easy anyways." Kieren jokes, but the female doesn't laugh with him or find amusement in it so Kieren just awkwardly shuts his mouth and shift in his seat. Gosh, his social skills are more than rusty—they're practically non-existent.

An awkward silence passes between them afterwards and Kieren tries not to look at his company swallowing raw meat down whole without chewing. He can practically hear the swallow.

"S-s-so that was you? In the woods? A-and around the cabin?" Kieren stutters, trying to make for conversation to ease his nerves.

Once again, it takes a while until the woman replies, "Yes. I meant to visit, but I never saw you."

Kieren takes a moment to think her words over before understanding them. She probably meant that she never saw him during her _night_ visits, which brings even more questions to mind then, "You have a dog?"

The female freezes, fingers on the meat she's holding tightening as well before she grits out a firm 'no.'

"Oh... T-then that wasn't you...? The scratching, I mean..." Kieren trails off, blood running cold when he concludes that the nightly excavates are still out there without his knowing.

"But I have a wolf. Two different things." The brunette adds after the last swallow of her dinner.

Oh. Great. A wolf. Kieren's heard one too many stories about them. From news in town telling of them tearing heads off of people that tread on their land to conversations speaking of their strength, viciousness, and wit and recent rumors foretelling their expansion into this forest. The redhead shudders.

"She's no harm." The brunettes voice cuts, loud and echoing and perhaps defensive, like she could hear his thoughts.

"O-oh. Ok. It's just... I'm not a dog," the glares he receives at the term makes Kieren backtrack, "w-wolf. W-wolf person. I'm not a wolf person."

The woman narrows her eyes, "Why?"

"W-well... Let's just say I've had bad e-experiences with them...?" Kieren stutters, finding the scraps on his plate fascinating now.

The female's expression softens before softly speaking, reverently, "She's as much harm as me."

Kieren looks up at that, "Yeah?"

His female companion nods enthusiastically, "Yes! She's beautiful, very friendly."

The redhead smiles at the excitement lacing his company's voice, "Is she?"

The brunette continues to nod, eyes wide in excitement. It seems talking about her wolf is a topic of interest for her, so Kieren listens to her stilted words.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was midnight by the time his guest left, and Kieren felt somewhat lighter afterwards. He had offered to walk her back—although a bit half-hardheartedly because of the darkness—but she waved him off informing him that her friend would be meeting her halfway there. Kieren assumed she was speaking about her wolf companion and that was enough to make him back-off. He waved her off, which she awkwardly returned, and watched until she disappeared through the dense foliage before turning in for the night.

Even now he still lies awake though, unable to sleep. It's just dancing two in the morning before Kieren turns on his gas light nearby to pull his sketchbook off the nightstand. The redhead flips to a random page in the journal as he settles in, back against the wood and charcoal nestled between his thumb and pointer finger. He doesn't even pause for a second to pull an idea from his mind before his hand is moving across the page.

The strokes are harsh and deep, rushed and messy, but intent on getting it all down. And once the better half of the page is filled in dark charcoal, Kieren reaches for his eraser to begin mapping out the shape of his subject. Four long white lines dust the charcoal away, continuing to shape out into a round shape as two triangular tips perch atop.

Tossing the eraser, the redhead fumbles for the charcoal again, focusing on the details now. The eyes come first, dark and piercing. Then the nose and muzzle. All as dark as the night outside. He saves the fur for last once he's finished shading and bringing to life the rest of the wolf. In his haste though, their are a few smears made accidentally but are left alone in light of reaching the threshold. It is only when his artist high has peaked and been ridden it through to the end, can Kieren finally _breathe_.

However, his hand holding, clutching the charcoal shakes uncontrollably and so he has to wretch each of his fingers apart from the utensil to finally be able to relax, the sketchpad laying open on his lap. Kieren breathes deeply, as if he's been in a marathon feeling the runner's high—which this artist high _is_ like a runner's high for him, _is_ in fact.

Art can be just as extraneous as any exercise, and Kieren can feel it bone deep. It's almost frightening, laughable. His whole body is quaking from the euphoria and he can't help but think he's obsessed.

When Kieren looks down at the drawing he can't help but laugh at the irony. He drew what he fears, something he never does. But somehow, the brunette's words—gentle and solemn—inspired him. Turned this fear into something intangible and abstract, non-existent almost.

Finally coming down from his high, Kieren couldn't help but think that it would be nice, nice to meet this _wolf in white_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The drawing depicted is White Wolf Charcoal by jabbershire-cat on d-Art.


End file.
